Brian McCLELLAN - The Autumn Republic

“It’s good to have some opposition,” Adamat said. “I’m sure she’ll come around.”

“You’re too confident. Anyway, I’m glad you’re alone. I want to talk to you.”

“Oh?”

“How would you like a job?”

Adamat swayed on his feet. “Ricard, you know I’d do anything for you. But I’m exhausted. I’m getting too old to run all over the city. The money from you and Privileged Borbador will keep us alive for a while. If I told Faye I had another investigation job, she’d skin me alive.”

“Investigating? Pit, Adamat. I want you to be on my staff.”

Adamat sensed some kind of a trap. “Isn’t that conditional upon your winning the election?”

“Well. Yes.”

“I see.” Adamat hesitated. “I’d have to ask Faye.”

“Well, she’d be hypocritical to say no.”

“What do you mean?”

“I offered her a job on my staff already and she said yes. The position comes with full-time nannies for the children and a lot of foreign travel. If I hire you both, you can take those trips together.”

Adamat tried to blink away his exhaustion. “She did? I… well. I suppose I could do that.”

“You suppose?” Ricard thumped him on the back. “Have a little enthusiasm. I wouldn’t let you say no.”

“You seem awfully confident in a win.”

“Pit, no. I think I’m going to lose, Adamat. Pretty confident, actually. But I’m a little drunk right now, and I’ve done everything I can. No sense in worrying over it anymore. See you downstairs?”

Adamat gave his friend a crooked smile and watched him stumble out the door. Fell remained there a moment longer.

“Fell,” Adamat said as she followed Ricard out.

“Yes sir?”

“Thanks for taking care of him.”

“It’s my job, sir.”

“And sober him up a bit.”

“Next on the list. I have more confidence in his winning than he does.”

Adamat was alone for only a couple of minutes before he heard someone else enter the room. He turned, a smile on his lips, expecting that Faye had come looking for him finally. Instead he found Taniel Two-Shot standing with his back pressed up against the door, a look of terror in his eyes.

Adamat frowned and listened for some kind of commotion downstairs. The sound of the party continued on, and then he realized, “You’re not used to this kind of thing, are you?”

“I’m going to break the next person who asks me to shake their hand.”

“You look tired.”

“I am.” Taniel wore a new dress uniform, his colonel’s pins at his collar, his hat under one arm. “Haven’t slept in about six days.”

“That’s enough to kill a man,” Adamat said, stepping forward. Perhaps he should call for Fell. Taniel was potentially less than an hour away from being Adopest’s new Second Minister and he had a wide-eyed unsteadiness to him that said he’d either run off after his lover or pass out at any moment.

Taniel waved him off. “I can’t do it. I can’t keep shaking hands and smiling at sycophants while the pressure builds. We may have another war on our hands the moment the election ends, and no one seems to care. This time we won’t have a god on our side. And Claremonte still has Ka-poel.”

“No one knows about Brude,” Adamat said. “Except for us.”

“Ricard knows. How does he keep going on with the farce?”

“Habit?”

Taniel looked at him sharply. “Do you think this is over? This whole thing with Claremonte? Will he really just walk away?”

“I don’t know.”

There was a rap on the door. Taniel leapt away, then put a finger to his lips, shaking his head.

Adamat rolled his eyes. He opened the door a crack. It was Fell.

“It’s almost time,” Fell said. “Ricard needs Taniel Two-Shot.”

Adamat gave her a nod and closed the door. He stepped over, taking Taniel under the arm. “Let’s go.”

Taniel allowed himself to be dragged down to the hotel lobby by Inspector Adamat.

He thought about fighting the man off and finding a closet to hide in, but he knew that wouldn’t be what most people called “mature.” Instead, he tried to take Bo’s advice and put a smile on his face as they reached the main floor.

Behind the smile, his mind raced. Ka-poel was still with Claremonte. If he lost the election, would he kill her? Would he release her? Would he do either of those if he won ? There was no way to know, and he was going mad. Something needed to happen.

Adamat slipped off to the dining room, where Ricard was holding court, leaving Taniel to greet the constantly flowing river of well-wishers. He didn’t know any of their names, but they all seemed satisfied with a handshake and a kind word muttered from behind gritted teeth.

“I’ve seen that look before. You look like a hare cornered by a pack of hounds,” a voice said from behind him.

“I’m glad to see you’re doing better,” he said.

Vlora stepped up beside him and returned a passing merchant’s smile. “Me too. For the record, I don’t think Tamas should have made the trade.” She hooked her arm into his and he stiffened, but he let her lead him into one of the hotel’s sitting rooms, where local officials spoke quietly over their drinks, out of the main hubbub of the crowd.

“I do.”

“You’re both idiots, then.”

“Were you treated well?”

Vlora gave him a flat look. “Don’t try to change the subject.”

Taniel shrugged. “Kresimir’s fate is out of my hands. Handing over the body was Tamas’s call. I had no input.”

“I know.” Vlora let out a sigh and met his eyes, watching him silently for a long time. “I miss you.”

Taniel hesitated. “I miss you too.”

“Is there any chance things could ever go back to the way they were?”

Taniel had to confess that from time to time the same question had occurred to him. He remembered their childhood and their courtship, going through training together, stealing off to be alone, and all the time they spent together. But the fragile thread that had held them together had been snapped, and there was nothing that could mend it. “I don’t think so. Ka-poel. She and I…”

“Yeah.”

What if Ka-poel dies ? Vlora didn’t ask the question out loud, but he knew it had crossed her mind. He didn’t even want to consider it.

“I saw your savage,” Vlora said.

Taniel turned. “Is she all right?” The panic he felt for her kept rising to the surface and he had to fight it back down. Tamas had told him how important it was to play Claremonte’s game, and only a direct order and assurances that contingencies had been made kept Taniel from running off to try to rescue her.

“As far as I could tell.” Vlora gave him a sad smile. “If the opportunity comes up, I’ll help you get her back.”

“Thanks.” Taniel reached out and squeezed her shoulder. There was a part of him that wanted to hold her, that knew that she would welcome it. He shook his head to banish the thought. “Vlora, I…”

She held up a hand and he fell silent, frowning. She tilted her head, and it took a couple of moments before Taniel caught on. The chatter from the foyer and dining room had died down. “The results?” she asked.

They left the sitting room to find the crowd from the foyer huddled around the entrance to the dining room, and Taniel had to elbow his way through. He reached the center of the dining room to discover a messenger in a powdered wig, white frock coat, trousers, and black riding boots standing between Ricard and Fell. Taniel tried to melt back into the audience, but Ricard had spotted him. Ricard beckoned eagerly and Taniel felt himself pushed forward.

Tumblar’s brow shone with a sheen of sweat and his eyes looked tired. He took Taniel by the arm and directed him to his right hand.